The Illusion of Secrecy
by Secretly-A-Fangirl
Summary: In a house made of glass there is no such thing as privacy or secrets, Elizabeth knows this well enough. Adopted by Cyrus for what she can do, she is dragged into his world of ghosts and mayham. With only one true friend on her side will she survive when the ghosts break loose or will she rise above it all and stop what Cyrus started? Ben/OC
1. Struggling to Breathe

Elizabeth was in pain; her breaths were becoming shorter, her side was aching and her lungs burning—the most annoying thing was the shrill whistling that was constantly filling her ears and messing up what little concentration she had left. Her goal was blurry and too far away to even contemplate at the moment, her heart was beating ninety miles a minute; she felt like she was dying. Yelling replaced the whistle now and only made it worse on the teen. After what felt like hours, she finally reached her goal and collapsed on the hard, burning hot asphalt, taking deep breaths as her gym coach continued his rant.

She didn't see why he was so pissed, it wasn't like she signed herself up for the half mile race she was practicing for; if she had her way about it, she wouldn't even be in this class. Gym and Elizabeth Marks didn't mix well; in fact, physical work and she didn't mix well. "Get up and try it again, Marks," the coach growls, bringing his whistle to his lips. Elizabeth groans, but gets to her feet nonetheless. Her case worker would kill her if she ended up getting detention for not listening to her elders. The whistle blows and she starts running, wishing she were anywhere else but there. Why couldn't she have taken art or some other blow off class?

Because you're a Marks and these people don't like your family, she thinks snidely to herself. Most of the relatives in her family were known trouble makers and drug abusers, but her parents had raised her to be polite; not to mention the fact that they told her that if she even thought of using drugs or drinking they'd beat her ass and whoever put the thought in her head. Her parents weren't child abusers, but in a small town like this one, people still believed that spanking kids, no matter what age, was alright and she agreed. Too bad her parents died three years ago and no one else in her family qualified to take her in which lead to people thinking of her as the weird orphan from the drug family.

No matter how hard she tried to prove to the people of Davenport that she wasn't like most of her family they still treated her with caution and arrogance. They thought they were better than her, but the way she saw it they lived here too, so they weren't much better off. Elizabeth winces as a migraine starts, the second that day because she'd forgotten her glasses at home. The wire-framed glasses did her better than some believed them to and she missed them dearly right now. Sucking in a deep breath, she tries to speed up at least a little bit to shut up her coach; the third one this year.

Her gym class was particularly good at making coaches they didn't like run for the hills, but coach Aaron didn't seem to be going anywhere for a good while—unless her cousin framed him with some pot. She smiles at the thought of Coach Aaron getting put in the back of a police car, his face beet red and the little vein in his forehead sticking out and twitching. Gods, how she'd love to actually see that happen, but she wouldn't dare inform her cousin of the idea. "If you're in such a good mood surely you can speed up," Aaron shouts from his spot on the bleachers, chugging down some cold Gatorade.

She says nothing and speeds up a bit much to her lungs' protests that she do otherwise. When she finally reached the chalk line drew on the track she stops, hands on her knees and panting for breath. She was definitely going to lose some serious weight by the time the year was over with; something she would be proud of when it actually happened. "Jog back to the gym and get ready for your next class." I nod, jogging until I was well out of his sight and then slowing to a walk.

She never noticed that there was someone watching her, too busy silently cursing at the teacher she'd left behind. His brown eyes glint with triumph; after years of searching, Cyrus had finally found the girl he was looking for. The seventeen-year-old wasn't very attractive, he'd admit; her blond hair was in a bun as usual, and she was dressed in a pair of loose shorts and an oversized T-shirt that said 'My guardian angel wears a trench coat' in bold white letters.

She might be easier to look at once she's lost some weight and tried to look presentable and not like someone who just crawled out of the gutter. She had a power in her though, her entire family did, but she was at the age that was ripe for corruption; it helped she was gullible and innocent to most of the ways of the world. Yes, she would do nicely until he no longer needed her—after all, she wouldn't be missed by many.

**/*/OLIVIA/*/**

I take my seat at the last row of tables in the chemistry classroom, putting my chem book, binder and library book down on the space in front of me. My face was still tinted red from my earlier exertion and it made one of my best friends have to stifle a giggle. I glare at the brunette, holding up a finger that most would call rude and disrespectful. "I take it gym went well," my friend, Diana, asks with a grin, pushing my hand down.

"Well, Aaron didn't threaten to have me filleted alive today, so yeah," I nod with my own grin, wondering where the science teacher was; Cook was often late, but never quite this late. I clear my throat, taking a long drink from my water bottle before putting it beside my chair again. "Anyway, how was Computer Science II—more importantly, was Richardson in a bad mood again?" Diana shrugs, cool blue eyes surveying the room.

"She wasn't too bad today, must've gotten a coffee fix or something." Or something alright; she might be buying a costly little something from my cousin. "Anyway, have you heard the latest basketball gossip?" I shake my head, steeling myself for the inevitable wave of so-called 'news' that was about to hit me. "Apparently Jade and a sub got caught in the middle of the frickle frackle and he got fired, but here's the best part, she's pregnant and her parents are trying to sue the sub." Damn, even in small towns we've got our share of desperate whores. With a soft laugh, I open my chem book and begin to look over last night's homework for any mistakes before Cook came in and picked it up. "You actually did your homework last night?"

"Yep, Davey said that he'd give me a later curfew if I passed chemistry with a B." Davey is my case worker, an awesome guy for the most part, but a real hard ass when it comes to school. Diana nods, pulling out her worksheet and frowning down at it; she was great when it came to the math part, but hopeless when it came to the periodic table. "One should be aluminum." She tilts her head to the side, scribbling it down just as Cook walked into the room, slamming the door behind him as he always does to get the class' attention. I slide my worksheet in front of me for Cook to pick it up, absently chewing on my pen cap. Diane continues to scramble to get her work done even though she knew that Cook would help her with it after school when she came to his shop to work. She kept him organized, not to mention satisfied.

"Girls," Cook greets when he makes it to our table, taking up my paper and sending Di a wink. I snort, shaking my head and sending my teacher a goofy smile. He grins back, knowing I would keep his secret for the simple reason that he would pass me. "Alright, everybody face the smart board, time for our weekly video!" He talks loud whether he means to or not, but all of us have gotten used to it this far along in the semester. The video turned out to be After Ever After, a YouTube song that he could recite from memory. Di groans and rolls her eyes, sick of the video. "Diana, you can sleep later, that's why you have a bed at home!" Her head snaps up from the table, scowling at her lover. The class passes by quickly, the rest of them bleeding into one another; all the teachers talking, but none of them interesting me.

With the last class of the day over with, Diana and I made our way to the student parking lot. It had been a long day and all I wanted to do was pass out in my bed, but I never catch a break. Parked beside Diana's jeep is a fancy car that looked like it cost more than my old house; standing at the passenger's side of it is Davey and the standing at the driver's side is some dude in a suit. He was good looking, I wouldn't lie about that, but he looked exactly how my old lawyer did; pompous, full of himself, and too rich to notice the two girls walking towards them. "I didn't think Davey made enough to have a car like that," Diana whispers to me.

"He doesn't," I mutter, my stomach twisting into a knot as we get closer and closer to the two men. Davey looks anxious, something big is obviously on his mind and, judging by the way he keeps looking at the other guy, it's nothing good. "Hey, Davey, what's going on?" Davey gulps, his eyes now focused on the ground and his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Libby, I've got some big news for you," he starts out with a slight stutter. "This man with me is a lawyer and he's come to me with all the proper paperwork of adoption." The other man takes in Diana with obvious interest, his light blue eyes taking in her curves and large breasts. It was obvious what he was thinking about, and I couldn't blame him. Diana is beautiful and makes a lot of guys look her way with sighs and fantasies; I, on the other hand, seem to repel them. I'm too awkward around people and I'm lucky to get laid once every few months while Di gets it every other Tuesday as long as Cook's wife is out of the shop. "Mister Moss, this is Elizabeth Marks." The man's gaze lands on me now, intense and cold as he looks me over quickly. I meet his gaze head on, not wanting him to know just how much he scares me or how much he turns me on. His light blond hair is slicked back and he's dressed in a designer suit that fit his firm build perfectly. He would probably make me a blubbering mess if I didn't have to see those eyes. There is no warmth held there, only distaste and disinterest.

Feeling insecure, I cross my arms over my chest, hiding the bit of cleavage my shirt reveals. "Ben Moss," the man says, stepping forwards and holding out a hand for me to shake," I'm your future father's lawyer." I shake the offered hand, sending Diana a look that spoke volumes of how much I wanted to be somewhere else. She picked up on it, holding onto my arm and pulling slightly in the direction on her jeep. The sight of Di holding onto to me seemed to perk Moss's interest, the corners of him mouth turning up slightly in a smirk.

"Sorry if there's an inconvenience, Mister Moss, but Libby's mine for the day. We have all sorts of fun things planned, no men allowed." Di's tone had changed from playful the sultry in .5 seconds, a new record. Moss's eyes darken slightly, licking his lips as he continues to stare at the two of us. I quickly catch onto Di's hint, wrapping one arm around her waist and resting my head on her shoulder with my lower lips poking out slightly. "Surely you won't keep us from having fun before my best friend has to leave?" Moss swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Of course, what kind of man would I be if I separated you two young women before you had a chance to say your goodbyes?" Di giggles, playing with a lock of my hair before pulling me away to her jeep and speeding out of the parking lot. It doesn't take us long to dissolve into laughter, the look on Moss's face enough to make most teens laugh. He'd looked hopeful, as though he'd thought we'd invite him along for the ride.

"That was the best fake couple scheme we've ever pulled off!" I grin in agreement, pulling my shirt back up to cover more of my breasts. "God, did you see his face when I pulled your shirt down a little more?!"

"No, the best part is when I hugged you back, his jaw would've hit the floor if we went any further." Diana giggle, bouncing in the driver's seat as we pull into the driveway of Cook's shop. We often hang out here in our free time, playing video games and watching TV while Cook builds shit. He is the biggest geek in Davenport, building his own instruments and using his 3D printer to make Di a Storm Trooper mug and me a little Scooby-Doo figurine. "God, I'm gonna miss doing stuff like this when I'm gone."

"You don't know that your new daddy doesn't live in town."

"Did you even notice how fancy his lawyer was? There's no doubt that if daddy can afford a guy like that, then he's bringing in the big bucks which means no small town trailer." She purses her lips as we walk inside, heading straight for the cabinet that Cook keeps the liquor in. "That is a very good idea," I nod, plopping down on the sofa while she digs around for the Vodka and some cashews. We may be seventeen, but we both know not to drink on an empty stomach.

* * *

I groan as I climb into Moss's fancy car, holding onto the seat so that I didn't fall. Moss rolls his eyes, climbing into the driver's seat and giving me an annoyed, you-better-not-puke-on-my-expensive-leather-seats look as he peels out of the driveway and back towards the main road a few miles away. "What the hell is wrong with you," he asks sternly. I giggle, kicking off my shoes and curling my legs underneath me in order to get more comfortable.

"I thought it was obvious, lawyer-person," I slur," I got drunk with my best friend and my science teacher, and then I made out with her, and then you showed up." I pause a moment, trying to remember if that was the order before nodding confidently. "Yeah, that's how it went...How'd—how'd you know where I was anyhow?" He clears his throat, blue eyes darting from the road to my chest every few seconds. I look down, wondering wear my shirt had gone and why I was only wearing my barely there bra and black and purple skinny jeans. "Heh heh, I can see my boobs." Moss shifts a little in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust his pants. "You wanna stop the car and have sex? I'm really horny right now...Then again, I'm always horny when I'm drunk..."

"We don't have enough time to get you completely sober for the court time, start drinking water." He reaches down and picks up a bottle of water from the floorboard, and shoves it into my hands. Pouting, I start chugging the water, looking out my window at the familiar scenery. "Why the fuck would you go get drunk when you knew you had court today?" He's angry, and the pissed off look on his face makes me want him even more. "Here, drink some more." I take the new bottle and throw the empty one in the back.

"You're boring." We make it back to the home so I can run in and take a shower before getting dressed for court. "Davey," I call out in a whine," the lawyer won't have sex with me!" Davey says nothing, pushing me into the bathroom and slamming the door shut. The dress I'm forced into is a black one that stops at my knees with three quarter length sleeves and white polka-dotted edges.

**/*/The Adoption/*/**

"Are you going to change her name," the judge asks the man adopting me. He shakes his head, stating that the only part of my name that would change is my last name. Cyrus Kriticos, this is the first time I've met the man and I already don't like him. I glare at Davey; he'd known about this for nearly two years and was helping it along while I remained in the dark. "Alright, you'll need to approach and sign this paper and then she's all yours." Cyrus moves forward, pulling a pen out of his suit jacket. He dressed sort of old fashioned; normal suit with a cravat and a cane that he didn't need. His hair is the same dark brown as his eyes and his skin is pale; someone who doesn't get out much, maybe? He's obviously wealthy, his car alone worth more than anything I own. "Well, you're free to go."

And so I walked out of the courtroom a new person; no longer the grungy teen I woke up as this morning, but a high class young woman. Elizabeth Kriticos, at your service.

**If you want to see the outfits she wears, they are near the top of my profile under the story name. Please R&amp;R, this is my first 13 Ghosts fanfic and I'm a little nervous.**


	2. Leaving Home

I spent that night at the group home, saying my goodbyes and packing. It was a long night and I got little sleep because of the girl I share a room with, little Jackie, crying and snuggling under my blankets as though if she hugged me hard enough I wouldn't leave her. As if I had a choice. The next day I crawled out of bed and dressed in a short skirt with the top half being black velvet and the bottom being silk resembling newspaper; I pull a black tank top over my head, the front reading 'Work like a Captain, play like a pirate', with black boots to match. Black seemed an appropriate color to wear on the day I was to leave the town I grew up in my whole life for some completely new and secluded spot.

Ben had made it clear earlier that Cyrus liked his privacy, that I was expected to ask how high when he says jump. "Do you have to go, Libby," Di asks over breakfast, picking at her waffles. "I mean, I could hide you in Erik's shop and no one would find out."

"Yeah, that would be great, but Cook's shop is the first place they'd look for me." My friend frowns, the hand not hold her fork wrapped tightly around one of my wrists. "Relax, I have the laptop my parents bought me before they died, I can still Skype you at night and let you know what's going on. Besides, I'll be eighteen next year and you can come kidnap me without worrying about lawyers and shit." She smirks at the mention of lawyers, biting her bottom lip.

"Mm, that lawyer of Cyrus's looks really nice." I chuckle, shaking my head and taking a sip of my orange juice. "Did you fuck him last night, I know how horny you get when you're wasted."

"I can't really remember, much past him dragging me out of the house. Hell, even court is a blur and I was beginning to sober up by then." Di nods, forking a strawberry and taking a small bite of it. I look down at my own plate in disgust, the brown sugar oatmeal and strawberries making me nauseous. "Anyway, the suit said I'd have cell signal and WiFi where I'm going so I can call when I need a friend and you can skip class some days and meet me at the mall." She shrugs, her grip on my wrist tightening and making me wince. "Ease up, you're gonna kill my wrist." When Diana doesn't say anything I follow her gaze over my shoulder; standing in the doorway of the dining room is Benjamin Moss, asshole galore. "Aw, fuck me."

"Elizabeth, it's time to leave." Di stands up so fast she knocks her chair over, pulling me forward into a bone crushing hug.

"Don't let Cyrus manipulate you, use your you-know-what if you have to," she whispers to me before releasing me. "Davey already put your bags by the front door, make stuffy over there haul 'em out for you." She gives me a small smile, walking over to Moss with a purpose in her stride that should make Moss afraid. With a sigh, I walk past the pair and to the front door, grabbing my backpack and computer bag; the other two bags Moss can carry out. His car is expensive and painted jet black, I throw my backpack in the opened trunk and gently place my computer bag in the back floorboard. If anything happened to my little Acer I'll raise some hell. I climb into the front, passenger's seat, waiting impatiently for the lawyer to come out.

When he finally did he looked like someone had just pissed in his Rice Crispies. Damn, Di must've really torn into his ass for him to look that mad. I wonder what she said to him; maybe that if he hurt a hair on my head he'd have to have surgery to remove her six inch heel from his ass. Heh, that's her favorite threat and she's used it on several people when it came to defending me. She's very protective of her friends and that's something I love about her—that and her great taste in clothes. He gets behind the wheel of the idling car and drives off, mumbling something under his breath. "Let me guess, Diana threatened your life in the most seductively sweet voice ever," I guess with a raised eyebrow.

"You guessed right." I smile, chewing on a stick of gum. The next few hours is spent in silence, not really awkward, but not comfortable either; suddenly Moss turns off onto a dirt road that leads to a clearing in the woods and puts the car in park. "Now, time for the rules." He cuts the ignition and turns to face me with a smirk. "Mister Kriticos expects you to act like a young woman should, no loud music, and no obnoxious sounds; if he tells you to do something, you do it without question. Treat him with respect or he'll beat the shit out of you with no hesitation; he doesn't like children, he never has." If he doesn't like kids, then why the hell did he adopt me? "You will work at my firm every Wednesday and Saturday, you will stay at my apartment those nights. And finally, I believe there is a gift for you in the backseat." Curious, I turn and find a medium sized gift bag resting on the seat, purple paper peeking out to cover up whatever's inside. "Open it, I think you'll like it—I know I did." That makes me nervous.

Inside is a sheer black corset with a lace overlay and matching panties; under those are thigh high black stockings with clips to connect them to the panties. "Holy mother of TARDIS, what the fuck is this?" Moss chuckles, taking the corset from me and holding it up as though to measure whether or not it would fit. "I'm not wearing that, you can forget it, you creep!" The only thing that stopped me from getting out of the car and running back to town is the tight grip Moss has in my hair, pulling me until I'm right beside him, pressed firmly into his side. His free hand lets go of the corset and moves to the lever under his seat to push it back and make room for him to haul me into his lap. "No," I scream, struggling as his other arm wraps around my waist and holds me in place.

"What's wrong, you were practically begging me to fuck you last night, sweetheart."

"I was drunk last night; I'm sober now, dickweed!" He chuckles, bringing his face closer to mine and placing a firm, demanding kiss on my mouth. I freeze, eyes wide, as he continues to kiss me, his tongue finding its way into my mouth and coaxing a reaction from me. Slowly I begin to relax against him, leaning into the kiss and giving him all I had. Moss groans as I grind my hips against him, pulling me closer to him. Pulling back for air, I give a throaty chuckle. "I didn't take you as a man that likes being on bottom." I rotate my hips again, a hiss escaping from between his clenched teeth. I put my hands on his shoulders, straddling his lap, and leaning forward to nip at the hollow of his neck—feeling his pulse jump.

"I suppose I'll have to make an exception this one time," he smiles, returning my bite with one of his own, soothing the sting with his tongue. With a moan, I lean into his attacking mouth, letting him leave red marks up and down my neck. _If you wanna do this again you'll have to make another exception because I don't do bottom, buddy_, I think with a smirk as I unbuckle his belt. "Impatient?" Laughing, I reach inside his boxers and pull out his hard, throbbing member.

"Is that for me?" He smirks, moving his hands up my legs and under my skirt, giving me a surprised yet appreciating look when he realizes I've gone commando. "Don't look so shocked, Mister Moss, I'm not as good as some would have you believe." He chuckles, inserting two fingers inside me and moving them at a tortuously slow pace. I let out a low growl, smacking his hands away and positioning myself over his erection. His hands go to my hips, the tight grip going to leave bruises later. "Can I get a please," I whisper, my lips right beside his ear. He doesn't respond with words as I thought he would, instead he slams my hips down, impaling me. I throw my head back with a shout, eyes squeezed shut as he continues to move me the way he likes. "God, you're bigger than most of the guys I've been with." I guess that's not saying much, but he reached a spot inside me that made everything gold.

I move my hips with his in the familiar, primal dance that everyone knows deep down, the pleasure growing and growing until I tumble over the edge into an abyss I've never experienced before. Moss thrust a couple of more times before joining me. "Jesus," he breathes, resting his head on top of mine as I rest mine on his chest. I nod, trying to catch my breath. "We're definitely doing this again." I give him a goofy smile, moving to sit next to him. He leans over me to open the glove compartment, pulling out a box of baby wipes for us to use to clean ourselves up. "It will be dinner time by the time we make it there, I hope you packed a nice dress to wear." I did, actually, but now I'm starting to wonder why I ever bought the damn thing.

**/*/Arriving at the new House/*/**

The house we stop in front of is probably the strangest I've ever seen; the walls are made of glass and the pillars supporting it all are metal beams. It has an unfinished look to it that I could come to like quickly enough—the architecture is certainly different, that's for sure! Ben smirks at my gobsmacked expression, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. He seems like a very physical person, always finding some reason to touch me. I don't mind, but it's kind of weird at times since I'm used to men ignoring me. "I take it from your expression that you approve," Ben asks, cutting off the ignition and putting his keys in his jacket pocket.

"Approve is a big understatement," I nod, grabbing my computer bag and exiting the car. Ben pops the trunk and I grab my other bags, slamming the trunk shut again; we both walking up the path to the front door, sliding glass panels that automatically close behind us. That's gonna take some getting used to. Cyrus stands in the living room, reading over a piece of old parchment until he notices us, then he puts it back in a glass case, carefully putting the lid on it to guard the artifacts inside. "Mister Kriticos," I greet stiffly. Cyrus nods, taking in Ben's and my ruffled appearance with ease, as though he expected nothing else. "Um, Mister Moss said that I need to change for dinner..." I trail off as I notice Cyrus's attention being drawn elsewhere.

"Show her to her room, Ben, I'm sure you can find something there to occupy your time until our dinner arrives," he says, wondering off. Ben scowls, gesturing for me to follow him out of the room and up a set of stairs.

"You're not allowed in the basement unless Cyrus says otherwise." I shrug, following him into a large room, decorated opulently in silk wall hangings and a Chinese divider separating the bedroom and the connecting bathroom. The bed dominates the room, sitting on a slightly raised dais with red satin covers and gold pillows. I grin, setting my bags down on a desk, running up the stairs of the dais, and jump up on the bed with a squeal. This room is amazing! Ben leans against a wall with his arms and ankles crossed, watching me in amusement. Across from my bed are a couple of glass shelves for my books and against the wall Ben's leaning on is a large, oak desk the wire baskets stacked on top of each other so I could organize papers. I could set up my laptop there and stuff some of my binders in the drawers. On the opposite wall is a wardrobe for my tops, dresses, and shoes; beside that is a dresser for my other clothing. "How about a shower before we're called down to dinner?" Ben has a devious smile and I can easily guess that the shower wouldn't be the normal type.

I smile back, walking towards the bathroom and undressing as I went. The bathroom is as large as the bedroom, the mirror above the sink set into the wall; on the cabinet the sink is set into are different bottles of perfume and containers of makeup. The bathtub is a bath/shower combo and big enough to fit two people, as Ben and I quickly found out. He starts the shower, the hot water cascading down our bodies and turning my skin a pale shade of pink. "Your body is so nice to look at," I breathe, running my hands down his bare chest and then back up to rest on his shoulders.

"Your's is pretty nice to look at, too." He covers my lips with his in a gentler kiss than earlier, trying to save time. He tastes nice, like the Red Hot gum I was chewing earlier. Wait a second...I trace his bottom lip with my tongue, groaning when he parts his lips and allows my tongue inside. It doesn't take me long to find out why he tastes like my gum when I find it in the back corner of his mouth, I swipe it back and pull away from him with raised eyebrows. "You can't blame me for wanting a souvenir, can you?" I remain silent, blowing a bubble; he leans forward and pops the bubble with his teeth, keeping some of the gum in his mouth. "There, now we both have some."

"Shut up and help me wash," I laugh, lightly smacking his chest before grabbing the body wash off the small shelf in the wall. He picks up a loofah, holding it while I drizzled the wash on in and then rubbing it along my spine, making me shiver.

**/*/Dinner With Daddy/*/**

"Wow..."

"Shut up," I snap, zipping my dress up with a scowl. It's an old fashioned number—Pale blue in color with pink roses and white polka-dots placed at random, the collared neckline is modest and has a small, white bow on the left side of it; the dress stops a few inches below my knees and the pink roses match the color of the flats I'm wearing. Pulling the whole outfit together is my necklace, a circle formed by two, silver dragon's tails and their heads form a heart; behind that is a purple galaxy. Normally it would hang between my breasts because of the tight clothing I wore, but right now it lays flat against the dress. "To be fair, Davey picked this out when he thought your boss was gonna come visit a few months ago."

"Ah, yes, and that man can barely dress himself." I nod, letting him lead me through the halls to the dining room where Cyrus was just setting down a couple of bags of Chinese take-out. He looks up at Ben and me boredly, dark eyes glancing at my neck. I quickly cover any marks Ben might have left with my hair, the blond curls hiding them easily. "Cyrus, no need for the cold shoulder, talk to the girl." We sit at the long wooden table, the pristine white tablecloth hiding the hand Ben places on my thigh. Cyrus clears his throat, sliding a white take out box to me and pulling out his own.

"I know about your ability." Well, that's certainly _not _the way normal people start conversations. Noticing the look on my face, Cyrus continues," I've been watching you for the past six months, I know that you are telekinetic, and that you try hard to hide that. I've seen you move cars before, so don't bother lying to me." I sit there and stare at the man with wide eyes and an open mouth. Only Diana and Davey knew about what I could do, so how could he find out so easily? "You're not exactly discreet when you're angry; just last month after a nasty confrontation with a man who tried to rape you, you threw him across a parking lot without ever laying a finger on him." Well I'll be damned.

"Um," I stutter, swallowing around the lump building in my throat," I can explain...?" Ben chuckles, squeezing my thigh reassuringly. "It's from my mom's side of the family, it skips every other generation and so I got it, but my mom didn't. She hated that she couldn't move things and my dad hated that I could. I was only two when we found out; I threw a nasty tantrum in a Target and the shopping cart next to us skidded away; my parents might have thought it to be the wind, except we were inside the store at the time." Cyrus nods, pressing the tips of his fingers together and using them to support his chin as I continue to talk. I don't know why I did it, just to get it all off my chest, I guess. "When I was seven my parents and I were driving to our family's cabin; I would be studied there by my dad's uncle. I hated it, all the poking and prodding despite my pleas for my mom and dad to help me. They just stood and watched as my uncle wore me out time and again. That day was different, halfway there I reached my breaking point and I flipped the car with all of us in it. Mom and Dad didn't make it."

There's no remorse in my voice as I tell the story, I felt nothing towards my family except a burning hatred. "That's quite enough, Elizabeth." It's only then I realized that the table was shaking violently, like an earthquake was trying to tear it apart. I close my eyes and take deep breaths to calm down, the table eventually going still again. Cyrus looks at me with approval, as though I had just passed some kind of important test that he had placed before me. "Eat your dinner and then get some rest, we have a busy week ahead of us."

* * *

My nightgown stops mid-thigh, made of black silk and hugged my curves while making what little boobs I had look more enticing. Ben seems to like it, though it didn't stay on me long once he came to bed. I could get used to this; a man to have sex amazing sex with whenever I want, a father that doesn't care what I do, and a credit card with my name on it. What else could a woman like me ask for?


	3. Ghosts in the Basement

I was in bed the first time I heard the noise; it was nearly ten at night and I was by myself in a big glass house. Curious, I grab my phone and start looking through the house, stopping in front of the stairs that lead down into the basement. Normally there was a pane of glass that kept anyone without a key from going down there, but that panes had slid away as I approached. There was no denying that I was curious, especially since Cyrus is nowhere in sight and wouldn't be back until late. With one last look over my shoulder I start down the stairs towards the screams. Is Cyrus the type to keep people down in his basement? Holy shit, what if he's a serial killer? All the theories run through my head, but none of them was even close to right when I find screams coming from empty glass boxes with Latin embedded in it. I stand in front of one of the boxes that screams were coming from, looking for anything that could cause the noise. "What the hell," I mumble, looking for something to open the door.

"Don't you dare!" I jump at the new voice, spinning on my heel to find a tall man with hair cut close to his head. "Trust me, you don't want to do that." He had glasses on, but not the normal kind like mine, they're made of thick, clear plastic with a small light on either side of them. I back up against the box, wishing I'd have brought a weapon with me, even if it was only something simple like my notebook. The man holds up both hands in a peaceful gesture, his palms facing me. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, but that thing in there won't hesitate. Come on, let's go upstairs and wait for Cyrus."

"You know Cyrus?"

"Yeah, he's my boss." The only person I'd seen that works with Cyrus is Ben, other than him no one came to the house that I knew of. "You, uh, you _are_his daughter right?" I nod suspiciously, eyeing the man and pressing myself more firmly against the glass. The screams had amplified when the man came in and they were beginning to cause a migraine. "I'm Dennis Rafkin." He extends one of his arms, holding out a hand for me to shake. "Cyrus never told me your name."

"Elizabeth...Follow me." I push past him and up the stairs into a room I discovered last month. Like all the rest of the house, the walls are glass with Latin written on them, but the floor is different colors that form a mosaic of roses. In the far corner of the room is a piano and set against the wall by the door is a sofa where Cyrus and Ben often sit and talk while I played. "We're staying in here until Cyrus and Ben get back." Dennis shrugs, plopping down on the sofa and propping his feet up on the low coffee table. I scowl at his lack of manners, walking over to the piano and beginning to play the first song that came to mind. A song called Simone's Song that Stana Katic sings in a Librarian movie. "_I see the sadness in your eyes is more than you let on, they ask where love has gone. Was it some magic or a twist, a spell that crossed the stars? Whatever happened here we are._"

"That's enough, Libby." I look at Ben over my shoulder, resting my hands in my lap. Cyrus stands next to him, both of his hands resting on top of the cane he doesn't need, I know that inside is a blade that he practices with every night when he thinks I'm asleep. "Go and put on some of your grunge clothes, we're going on a field trip to your father's work." I bite my lip, wondering whether to ask about the basement or not before deciding it'd be dumb to tell on myself. I move out of the room and up the stairs to my bedroom, pulling on a long-sleeved plaid shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, and red converses. Once back downstairs I notice a whole team of men standing in the living room, all wearing the same strange glasses as Dennis.

"Here, you'll need these," Dennis says, offering me a pair. "They're your prescription, Cyrus and the suit made sure of it." I take them with a soft thank you, replacing my glasses with them. The Latin on the walls glow a bright gold and when I look down I find some more there. That's weird, did he have that written there in invisible ink or something? Dennis has his glasses resting on the top of his head, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. "Cyrus is waiting for us outside in his car." Dennis and I walk outside with the other men, climbing in with Cyrus while the others get in trucks and follow after us.

**/*/The First Spook Hunt—The Jackal/*/**

The old hospital we stop in front of sends shivers down my spine; it's badly burned and falling to pieces. Is this really where Cyrus did his work or was Ben just being a sarcastic ass? "Stay close, Elizabeth, I don't need you getting yourself hurt," Cyrus instructs as we exit the car and walk through the doors of the hospital. The plaque beside the door was badly stained and barely readable—Borehamwood Asylum. I did a report over this place last year for my speech class, apparently it housed people no one wanted to take care of, deemed lunatics for having genetic diseases like Down syndrome.

"I know about this place," I say to no one in particular," it housed one of Willow Grove's most dangerous patients, Ryan Kuhn." Dennis nods, keeping an arms distance away from everyone. "From what I read online a girl got lost in here around four years ago and her body was found two weeks later, she has been raped and mutilated. A lot of people blamed it on a ghost since she was found in the basement where Ryan was kept, but the police arrested a crack head that had been hiding nearby."

"The people had it right," Dennis whispers to me, looking around constantly. "You see, Ryan never left the Asylum even after he died; he's here somewhere and we're supposed to find him." My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at that. Why would we try to find a ghost?

"Shouldn't we call the Ghostbusters?" Dennis scoffs, shaking his head as we follow Cyrus down some rickety stairs that lead into the dark basement. The stairs creak underfoot, one giving way under a man's foot and damn near snapping his ankle. Two men help him back up the stairs and out to the truck before rejoining us, the other guy would be taken to the hospital later on when we're finished. "You're not actually scared of ghosts are you?" Dennis says nothing, slipping his glasses on and pushing mine back up where they're supposed to be instead of on the edge of my nose. "There's no such thing, it's all just stories made up by people—" Suddenly I'm forced against the burnt railing of the stairs, falling through and onto the rough stone ground below. The air is forced out of my lungs and I'm left gasping as a man in a shredded straight jacket drags me through the room by my feet.

The man, if you could call him that, looks exactly as how people described Ryan's ghost; a pale face with straggly black hair, his head trapped inside a metal cage with the front bars of it broken and bent outwards. His arms are deformed from struggling with the jacket and he hops around laughing manically as he drags me, sharp nails biting into the skin of my ankles. When I finally get my breath back I begin to scream and struggle against him, wishing I had just stayed at home instead of agreeing to do this. "Elizabeth," Dennis shouts, jumping through the hole in the railing that I'd made when I fell. Men hold a cube like one of the ones in the basement gently place the cube on the ground well away from where I'm being attacked. "Do your thing!" Shaking and scared, I close my eyes as I feel him crawling up my body, focusing on throwing him across the room into a wall. The resounding crack that follows and the weight lifted from my body tells me that it worked. "Start the spells, you idiots!" Latin echoes through the Asylum in a garbled voice, bouncing off the walls and angering Ryan.

The ghost flickers in and out of my sight, making his way into the cube, the door of it sliding closed and locking behind him. The moment the Latin stopped Ryan attacks the glass with his nail, screeching and shouting. I whimper, reaching out and hugging Dennis with all the strength I had left. The man stiffens, shaking violently and dropping to the floor. "Don't touch him, Elizabeth," Cyrus says in a bored tone, laying a hand on my shoulder. "He's a psychic, the touch of a person could send him into a seizure if he's not careful." I sit next to Dennis on the ground, waiting for him to catch his breath. "Bring the cube up the truck and take it back to the house, I'll be along shortly to pay you once the job is complete." The men nod, struggling to get the large cube back up the stairs and outside. "Don't take too long." And then Cyrus left, too, and it was just Dennis and I left in the dark basement.

"Have you heard about building a wall," I ask after a minute, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them while Dennis continued to lay on the ground. "I learned to do it when I was little so my parents wouldn't get mad. It's easy for me now, you just close your eyes when you think you're about to have an attack and imagine a brick in your mind, put another brick on top of it and so on until you feel in control. You'll need fewer and fewer brinks every time until you just won't need them anymore."

"How many bricks are you down to," he asks softly, looking at me sadly.

"Twenty-nine and a half." He chuckles dryly, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. "You have to relax, don't be so tense." He nods, relaxing slightly, his mouth moving as he silently counts the bricks. "Imagine your ability as a glowing ball trapped behind the bricks and unable to get out." He breathes in and out again, relaxing further. "That's it, Dennis, how many bricks are you up to now?" He holds up his hands and moves each of the fingers ten times to signal one hundred. I nod with a smile, he was getting there and I was sure that my little trick would for him. "I'm gonna touch you, Dennis, but I need you to stay calm for me." He nods, relaxing further and his lips moving faster. Slowly, I reach out a hand and cup his cheek, my thumb rubbing it soothingly back and forth. "Are you cool?"

He opens his eyes, giving me a weak smile. "Never been better." I move my hand form his face to his hand, tugging slightly so he would sit up. "Cyrus won't wait much longer, we better go." He stands and pulls me to my feet, helping me up the stairs, careful not to bump my ankle. I could see myself being friends with Dennis, but it might take some time to get him to relax around people.

**/*/First day of Work/*/**

I walk into Ben's firm, tugging at my skirt and feeling scared when a few eyes land on my. I had dressed nicely, a black, high-wasted skirt that stopped under my knees, a white shirt tucked into it, and black and white flats that Ben had bought me. One pair of the eyes looking at me belongs to Hannah Manly, her pretty grey eyes narrowed into hateful slits and her full lips twisted into a scowl. I smirk as I walk over to her, taking in the too short pink skirt and the tan shirt she wore with disinterest. She was after Ben, but he paid little attention to her, saying he didn't like women that threw themselves at men. "Hi, sweetie," I greet, giving her a hug," how's your husband?"

"He's fine, taking a ski trip with his secretary," she answers with a fake smile. "I see you're playing secretary today, what a coincidence."

"Not really, Ben's been itching to bend my over a desk for a while now." I walk away from the bimbo into Ben's office with an extra skip in my skip. "Morning, Ben." He smiles at me, holding up a finger as he listens to a client on the other end of the phone. I settle at my little desk, starting up my computer and plugging my phone into the charger as I wait.

"Yes, Mrs. Daniels, your husband will be lucky to get a penny once we get to court. Okay, goodbye." He hangs up the phone and walks over, sitting down on the edge of my desk. "Cyrus told me you were attacked last night..." he trails off, clearly waiting for me to fill him in.

"It was just like he said, I was attacked." Ben continues watching me as I type in my password to the computer and get on Microsoft Word. "I was attacked by a fucking ghost that I threw against a wall before he could do any real damage." I take a shaky breath, waiting for any unimportant calls to type up and send to him after work. "Can we get to work, or are you a therapist now?" My voice has gone cold and I can tell Ben wasn't used to it. I've never used that tone with him before, even when he'd accidentally dropped my phone in the toilet. He sighs, getting off my desk and spinning my chair around so that I'm facing him.

"I may not be a therapist, but I happen to know something that relaxes plenty of people and you look like you could use it," he says, his lips brushing my ear with every word. "I have no appointments today, we could go back to my apartment and spend the rest of the day in bed." I purse my lips, considering his proposal. It had been a while since I'd had sex and I could definitely use it right now as a stress reliever. At my nod, he grins and takes my hand, leading me out the back door to his car.

**/*/A Night at Ben's/*/**

"I'm not doing it," I state, looking down at the gift he'd given me the first day we'd had sex," have you ever worn a corset before, they're not exactly comfortable." Ben chuckles, pulling me against him and kissing me. "I'm still not doing it."

"I'll give you fifty dollars." I grab the bag out of his hands and walk into the bathroom, his chuckle following after me. The corset is a little tight, but not too terrible that I couldn't stand it long enough for him to tear it off, and the fabric felt nice against my skin. The panties were almost too small, but the stockings fit perfectly. When I walk out of the bathroom back into the bedroom, Ben was lying on his bed and drinking some expensive whisky. He nearly choked on it when he realized I was standing in the room. "Change of plans, I'll give you two hundred dollars if you don't throw that away."

"Hmm," I hum, straddling his hips. His hands run up the backs of my legs until they reach my ass, where they squeeze. I lean forward, biting, sucking, and licking my way down his throat and stomach. He grunts when I take him in my mouth, his hands tangling in my hair.

"What's that for?" I come up for air for a second, flashing him a devious smile before going back to what I was doing. "God, not too much teeth, Libby." I moan around him, making him groan and lean his head back against the wall, the grip he had in my hair tightening. I move further up his hard cock, licking the very tip before going back down again. "Fuck, Libby," he groans, pulling me off of him and throwing me on the bed. He pushes the crotch of my panties to the side and buries himself in me to the hilt. My back arches under him, instinctively wrapping my legs around his waist and making him move deeper in me.

"Ohhh, right there," I moan, digging my fingernails into his shoulders as he moves harder against me. It has been too long since the last time this happened and I really needed the sweet relief it gave me. I raise my hips up to meet him thrust for thrust as the pleasure swells inside me, nearly to my breaking point. He grunts, smothering my moans with a kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as we finish together, and my vision black for a moment as my climax hits me. Afterwards he and I relax in the bed, NCIS playing in the background as we fight sleep. "We need to do that more often." He nods, still breathing hard, holding me close to him and closing his eyes.


	4. Playing God in a Junkyard

When I was told we were going on another field trip by Dennis that night, my thoughts turned back to when we captured the Harold and his mother; it was definitely not a pleasant memory, but it was better than when we trapped Ryan. At least that time the only damage done was to my outfit when Harold puked on it. I pull on a pair of light blue distressed jeans and my Hogwarts hoodie followed by a pair of black boots with lace detailing on the sides. Cyrus knocks on the bathroom door, with his cane judging from the sound of it. "Hurry up, Elizabeth, you don't have to look nice you just have to do your job!" I stick my tongue out at the door, knowing that if I did that to his face I would be hit. After putting my thick hair in a ponytail, I open the door and run outside to where Cyrus's crew were waiting.

"Where are we going," I ask as Dennis, Cyrus, and I get in the car. Cyrus ignores me and Dennis gives me a shrug of his shoulders; if Dennis doesn't know, then Cyrus must be worried about him bolting before we could find the ghost. With a sigh, I pop in my ear buds and drown the rest of the world out as Metallica begins to play, bobbing my head along to the music with my eyes closed and my wall in place. I am down to twenty-seven now and Dennis is at one hundred and fifty-seven bricks. He's slowly being able to control his ability instead of it controlling him. It takes us two hours to get to a junkyard, the big rig in front of us mowing down the gates and the yellow police tape that was fixed to it. Looking out the window, I see more police tape on the cars that are stacked up around us. This doesn't look good. Dennis and I share nervous glances when the cars all come to a stop and we get out. It's been raining off and on all day so the men wear clear parkas over their clothing; all except Cyrus and I, he's wearing his usual tailored suit while I'm warm enough with just my hoodie and jeans. I look at Dennis, grinning at the bright orange pants he has on. "You remind me of Shaggy when you wear those."

"I look nothing like Shaggy," he denies with a shake of his head and a smile.

"Oh no, honey, you would make a perfect Shaggy." His smile turns into a groan of pain, his hand clutching at his head and making me remember how serious this is.

I slip on the special glasses, my hands shaking slightly as I force my wall to tumble down and let my Telekinesis loose. The speakers for the containment spells have already been set up and Joseph, an older man that's been a protector of sorts, gives me a nervous smile. "Is it bad tonight," Cyrus asks as Dennis collapses in the mud beside him. Dennis gives him a look that I figure was a silent way of saying go fuck yourself. I can't blame him, this ghost hunting shit sucks.

"Bad," Dennis asks sarcastically," that's one way to describe it. Insane seems a little more appropriate." He rubs to top of his head, something he's started doing when he begins to let his wall down to do his job. I reach out and squeeze his shoulder, using my power rather than my hand; that last thing I needed Dennis to know about was my frequent sessions with Ben. I doubt he wants to know about them anyway considering he thinks of me as the little sister he never had. "It feels like he's breathing down my neck, man." So Dennis does know who we're after, he just doesn't want to tell me. That's the least comforting thing to happen so far. Dennis tells me everything, but to withhold something in this line of work could mean certain death. "And it is my professional opinion we should get the hell out of here. Now."

"Noted." Cyrus straightens up and grabs a picture of the junkyard from one of his men, not bothering to thank him. "Clean this place up and then locate our guests." I chew on some gum, needing to calm my mind if I was going to get anything done tonight. Dennis shares my thoughts as he pulls out a prescription bottle, the pills inside used to control his seizures, but they'll do him no good tonight as Cyrus uses his cane to knock the bottle out of Dennis's hands, the pills flying in all directions.

"Ahh! I just need to take the edge off!"

"You know the routine. I need you clear-headed." He grabs the front of Dennis's turtleneck and hauls him to his feet, forcing him in front of the car—the picture is held out in front of my friend and Cyrus gives him an expectant look. I look on in sympathy, turning my back to the display and walking over to where Joseph was handing out wireless mics for us all to keep in contact with each other. The old man smiles at me, helping me with mine and turning it on.

"That should do, sweetie," he smiles. I smile back, worried that he might not be here after tonight. This was a massive job from how the others talked and looked around; I've never seen them really worried before, but now they jump at every little noise. "You, uh, you be careful tonight; I might not be there to watch over ya."

"I know, Joseph," I reply softly, wrapping my arms around myself as I look around. The junkyard has an eerie feel to it that I don't like, maybe it's because of all the cars that could come crashing down at any time, or maybe it's the fact that a ghost is here, watching a waiting for the best time to strike. Now would actually be best, while we're separating to set up equipment and the cube. As it is, the cube is being lowered to the ground by several cables and a crane. "You be careful, too, Joey." He waves me off with a chuckle, giving me two more mics for Cyrus and Dennis.

"...What is he, like a truck driver," Dennis asks, taking the mic from me and putting it on while Cyrus put his in his pocket.

"Folklore," Cyrus answers," the locals exorcising their demons. Or maybe it's because he broke his victims into as many pieces as possible."

"That's doesn't sound ominous in the slightest," I quip, stuffing my hands in my jeans pockets. As if the junkyard itself was enraged, one of the cars at the very top falls in front of the three of us; it would have crushed us had I not acted quickly and pushed it away. I look up at the pile just in time to see a giant flicker from view. "Fucking asshole," I scream where he had been moments before, my heart rate speeding up.

"I hate being rushed."

"Do you hate it as much as you hate your receding hairline?" I take on an innocent look at his glare, looking pointedly at the top of his head where there hair had begun to disappear. "Don't blame me because you got the shit end of the genetic gene pool."

"This one's different," Dennis states, diverting Cyrus's attention before he could smack me with his cane.

"Then you'll get a bonus," Cyrus shrugs.

Dennis looks disbelieving. "You don't have that kind of money." There's no arguing that fact, Cyrus was going broke really quick and my frequent shopping doesn't help. Why should I care if the old bastard goes broke? I still have my trust fund that my Uncle Jace set up for me before my dad killed him.

"After tonight you might be surprised, now get to work." Dennis reaches out a hand, looking determined yet scared of what might happen, and places it firmly on Cyrus's shoulder. Cyrus smacks his hand away, looking like a Cobra ready to strike. "Careful, Dennis, don't get too curious." Their staring match is interrupted when four of our men drag a man and a woman over to us—one man, Damon, cursing the entire time while the woman struggles. I roll my eyes upon seeing the two "spirit liberators" at the site. They've been hounding us for months. "I'll give you this, Damon, you are persistent." Cyrus looks amused, Dennis looks annoyed, and I'm bored. "And what about you, Kalina? Still carrying around those ridiculous quick-silver flares." He pokes at the satchel she's wearing with his cane. "Still have that quaint little magical book?"

"These aren't animals you're capturing," Kalina yells," they're human beings!"

"Yeah, dead human beings," Dennis scoffs. "Maybe you should join Green Peace and throw blood on old ladies furs." Cyrus chuckles at the jibe, the first positive emotion I've seen him use in months. I step forward between Cyrus and Dennis when Kalina spits on Cyrus's shoes.

"Who are you to play God?" Cyrus's amused expression turns into a pissed one as he steps forward to get in the bitch's face.

"Playing's for children."

"You'll never pull it off," Damon says confidently," not without the right spells, that and the thirteenth ghost!" With an annoyed groan I take another step forward and focus on the pair of idiots that think that violent killer ghosts would leave them alone as long as they freed them. After a second Kalina and Damon are tossed away, being drug through the mud until I focused hard enough and lifted them.

"Fuck off," I yell as Cyrus and Dennis walk off again. I make sure they're out of my line of sight before I release my hold, stumbling a little as a dizzy spell hits me. I haven't gotten enough sleep lately and to do something like that drained me.

"What bait?!" I turn at Dennis's shout, finding him looking around frantically. "We've never needed bait before!" The big rig that lead the way in here starts up, making Dennis and I spin around. It moves down the path towards us, blood spewing out of its sides and onto the cars and ground. "A truck full of blood? You gotta be shittin' me." Dennis turns on his heal and jogs back a few feet until he's behind the cube and the truck has stopped.

"Power up the cube," Cyrus demands in the mic, one of the men obeying quickly. The doors to the cube slide open, the lights inside flickering on thanks to the power surging into by the cables connected to the doors and the truck. "Start transmitting." The Latin spells begin to blare from the speakers, all of us looking for the ghost anxiously. The sign on the doors is for the Juggernaut, so I guess that's what place he'll take. He doesn't take long to appear, beginning to tear the men apart. I stay beside the cube, desperately trying to keep up with everything, but unable to. In blind panic, one of the men runs right into the cube with the Juggernaut right behind him, the doors sliding shut and trapping them both. Inside, the poor man is beaten and killed. I stare at the Juggernaut in horror; he's a giant of a man with disfigured looks and riddled with bullet holes, he still wore the torn and bloody outfit that he did when he worked in the junkyard.

Feeling nauseous, I turn and walk away, taking off the glasses and putting them in my jeans pockets. Lying on the ground a few feet away is Joseph, torn in two with a look of terror on his face, and a few feet further away is Cyrus, metal from a car lodged in his throat. "Son of a bitch," I scream, tired of all the death and gore.

**/*/Meeting new Family/*/**

I tie the ties to my skirt tightly to make sure it stayed in place, the skirt stopping mid-thigh like most of the skirts I wore. The tank top I put on is equally revealing, the under part stopping just before my skirt and the lace over it stopping a little under that; my heels match my skirt, red and black with a silver design in the back. Ben liked the outfit, saying he couldn't wait to take it off later. I smack his shoulder with a smile, taking a thermos of coffee from him to occupy me on the long drive to Arthur Kriticos's apartment. Apparently Cyrus had a nephew that he was going to leave the house to, hopefully my cousin would be generous and allow me to stay there until I could find a place of my own. "Why do I have to go again," I ask after we've been in the car for an hour.

"Because you should get to know the people you'll be staying with for the next few days," he answers, not taking his eyes off the road. "Plus, it'd be a long drive without some sulky teenager to entertain me." I scoff, looking out the window at the scenery. "Jesus, what has you so pissed off?"

"The fact that I get nothing after living with that asshole for a year has me pissed off. I worked for him and he didn't even give me the key to the damn liquor cabinet!" Ben rolls his eyes, digging around in his coat pocket before tossing me a little silver key. "Is this what I think it is?"

"That's the key for your liquid courage, yes." I stare down at the key for a moment, thinking of what all Cyrus might have stashed in there when he was alive; money, jewelry, something else worth a lot that I could sell on eBay. With a grin, I stick the key in my bra for safekeeping, there was no way I was letting anybody take it from me now that I finally have it. "Do I not get a thank you for that little present?" He raises his eyebrows expectantly. I knew what kind of thank you he wanted, and I would happily give it to him, but not if it risked us crashing and dying.

"I'll blow you when we get back to your office."

"I've heard that before," he mumbles with a frown, tightening his hold on the steering wheel. I roll my eyes skyward, praying that he wouldn't drive off the road into a tree or something before readjusting in the seat. I kick off my heels so I can put my feet in the seat and lay comfortably enough that I wouldn't get a cramp while giving Ben his thank you present. He sighs when I pull out his erection, trying to keep his face neutral in case a cop passed us. I give him a devious look, moving my hand up and down, squeezing every now and again. "Don't tease, Libby." His voice is a low growl and sends pleasant shivers down my spine. In response I twirl my tongue around the tip, the salty taste of precum making me wince. He didn't want to wait and he's making me worried, so I get to tease as much as I like, thank you very much. I take just his head in my mouth, sucking and licking to see if I could make him react.

His face doesn't change, but he bucks his hips, pushing more of his length in my mouth. I can't help my laugh, it's not often that I can get away with this and I fully intend to enjoy it. He teases me all the time and now it's my turn to return the favor. I take more of him in, gagging slightly when he bucks up again. With the hand that wasn't holding him, I squeeze his balls, feeling him tense. He was about to cum and I was ready for it; pulling back slightly, I continue to squeeze until he finishes with a grunt, catching the mess in a baby wipe. "You're welcome." He grins, using one hand to fix his pants while I cleaned myself up with a new baby wipe.

* * *

The apartment looks a bit run down, the hallway dark and musty. I wrinkle my nose in disgust, I've been in some pretty nasty foster homes, but this place makes them look like vacation homes! Ben notices my look and shrugs a shoulder, continuing down the hall to the last door on the right where my cousin and his family lived. "Are you sure this is the right place," I whisper after he knocks on the door, pulling nervously at the bottom of my skirt. He nods, giving me a confidant smile. I have no doubts that the man who opens the door is Arthur—he shares Cyrus's thick, dark brown hair, dark eyes, and prominent nose. There are differences with the similarities though, Arthur's hair is curly and his eyes are kind. The shirt he has on has a large spill stain on it, by the smell I'd say it was coffee.

"Mister Kriticos," Ben asks.

"That's right," Arthur nods," you're uh..." Obviously the man was busy as Ben had introduced himself over the phone two days ago.

"Ben Moss, how do you do?" The two men shake hands and then Arthur's gaze is on me. "This is Elizabeth, your uncle adopted her last year." Arthur shakes my hand with a warm, somewhat confused, smile on his face.

"Please, come in." Arthur steps aside, but Ben stays out in the hall, looking pointedly at Arthur's shirt.

"Is now a good time?" Arthur laughs, shaking off Ben's judging expression.

"As good a time as any. Please, um, just give me one minute to change." I follow Ben into the apartment, toys and clothing strewn all over the place. It reminds me of my own room, except mine was papers and clothing rather than toys. In the kitchen is a girl that looks to be around my age with the same good looks as Diana, a little boy with spiky brown hair, and a black woman with curlers in her hair. I grin at the little boy, recognizing him as one of the kids in the class I aided for when I went to Davenport. He recognizes me, too, jumping from his chair and launching himself into my arms.

"Hey, kiddo," I laugh, hugging him tightly. Bobby was one of the more well-behaved children, one that I enjoyed to be around. "You been tormenting your sister?" He grins, throwing the teen a devious look over his shoulder. The teen lets out an air raspberry, crossing her arms over her full chest. She's lucky, my boobs are only a B-cup at the most, plus, her skin is really clear. She's really pretty and she knew it too. The black woman is taller than me, wearing a black spaghetti strap shirt, sweats, and a jacket. She's thinner than I am, making me feel self-conscious. I look down at my own body, my belly poking out more than I liked; most people would say I'm short and fat.

"Tell Kathy that I pay enough attention in class," he demands, looking at his older sister stubbornly.

"He's always been one of the best kids when I was there." Kathy gives me a disbelieving look, taking a bite out of something that looked like road kill and smelled like three day old skunk. Ben raises an eyebrow at me when I wrap one arm protectively around Bobby's shoulders, looking as though he liked the idea of me with a little boy. The woman notices the look, but says nothing, going back to her cereal. "I'm Elizabeth, Ben's sidekick for the day." Kathy smiles at me, both her and the other woman shaking my hand.

"I'm Kathy and this is Maggie." Ben nods in greeting to them, looking around the small kitchen with a slight sneer. Arthur walks into the kitchen again, sporting a new shirt and pulling on a suit jacket while Ben sets Cyrus's laptop up on the kitchen table. Everyone crowds around to see what was going on, myself included even though I was the one that recorded the video they were about to watch. Maybe Cyrus added something, like me getting an inheritance so I can fix up the car Dennis got me three weeks ago for my birthday.

Ben sits down at the table so everyone can see without his big head getting in the way. "I represent the estate of your Uncle Cyrus Kriticos." Ben nods at the computer and I lean over his shoulder to type in Cyrus's password. Ben smirks, getting a good view of my cleavage as I did so.

"We have an Uncle Cyrus," Kathy asks.

"Uh, had," Arthur nods," I, uh, only met him a handful of times as a kid, he wasn't too popular. My dad said he squandered the family fortune." Those last words had barely passed his lips when Kathy perks up, her brown eyes lit with excitement.

"We have a family fortune?"

"Well, no, Cyrus squandered it."

Maggie leans over and pats Bobby with a smile. "Hey, Bobby, isn't that great? You have a late Uncle," she tells him, watching as he tilts his head to the side in confusion.

"What's he late for?"

"His next birthday," Kathy quips, looking disappointed that there was no family fortune after all.

"You mean he's dead?!"

"Now we get his attention." Ben lances at the seven-year-old in shock while I simply smile, and Arthur pats his shoulder, telling him to pipe down. Bobby's been interested in death since he was little, or so his teacher told me last year, and I was used to the morbid excitement.

"Cyrus recorded this message six weeks ago," Ben continues," he asked that it be played for you in the event of his death." He paused slightly before saying death, looking down at Bobby. Bobby has a smile on his face as Ben presses the space bar and the video begins playing.

A small video screen pops up, showing Cyrus lighting one of his expensive cigarettes that triggered my allergies; I rub my nose out of instinct. "Arthur," Cyrus greets in his deep voice," it's good to talk to you. Sadly, if you're watching this now, it means I'm no longer among the living. Happily, that makes you and your family my sole beneficiaries. I've instructed my lawyer Mister Moss to deliver the essential elements in my last will and testament. Give it to them, Ben." Ben pulls a weird key out of his pocket, it had Latin symbols on it and looked misshapen—it's the key to the front door of my house. "Don't give such a sour look, Elizabeth, I've left you your inheritance in your room; clean it and you'll find it." Well, that he added by himself, you can tell by the brief time lapse in the video. Ben hands the key to Kathy, who hands it to Arthur.

"A key to what," Arthur asks, looking down at it.

"A key to your new house." That wasn't creepy in the slightest. The video box shifts to the bottom right corner while three other videos pop up around it, changing every now and then to show different rooms in the house, including mine. "This house is the fruit of my life's work." When the videos shift again to reveal bathrooms, Kathy practically begins to vibrate with excitement.

"Bathrooms, bathrooms; everyone gets their own bathrooms," she says excitedly.

"Is this for real," Arthur asks Ben in a whisper.

"It is a one-of-a-kind home," Cyrus cuts in," it's my home, actually. My home. I have no complaints—I've lead an interesting life, I have seen some amazing things." All the videos disappear for a split second and then Cyrus's reappears in the very center. "But the only regret I have is that I never really got to know my nephew Arthur, nor appreciate the love of a family like you have. Elizabeth has only shared my home for a year, not nearly enough time for us to truly have that father-daughter bond that you share with Kathy." Kathy and Arthur share a look, their eyes shining in anticipation. "This house is my attempt to make up for that. The only request I make of you is that you let Elizabeth continue to live there until she can find a place of her own. Enjoy." The video disappears again, reaching the end and when I left his study to do a little studying of my own for a history test. Then the clip popped back up, clearly he had done this just to show that he didn't really need my help with any of it. "Perhaps we'll meet again...In another life."

Ben shuts the laptop, sending a smug look in my direction.

"Wow," Bobby exclaims, looking up at his dad.

"When can we see it," Kathy asks.

"The house is yours whenever you'd like," Ben replies. "Actually, Elizabeth and I are heading up there after work; if you want, you, your wife, and your kids—"

Maggie quickly interrupts, holding up one hand in protest. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Maggie says loudly," time-out! I am not the Mrs. here."

"Uh," Arthur says, looking pained," my—my wife, uh...M-my wife is..."

"Our mom got burned to death in a fire," Bobby supplies.

"Bobby," Kathy scolds.

"What, it's true."

"That's enough, Robert," Arthur says sadly. "Mister Moss, uh, just exactly where is this place?"

"Just a couple of hours drive from here," Ben tells him as he puts the laptop back into his briefcase," in a town called Willow Grove, just up the Parkway. It's in a gorgeous area, but I have to warn you, your uncle liked his privacy. There isn't a neighbor for hours."

**/*/Heading to the Glass House/*/**

Ben rearranges the back of my dress, the black underlay getting tangled with the sheer gray overlay. I roll my eyes, knowing I should have chosen a different dress to wear to work, but I also knew that if I moved in with Arthur this might be my last time to get laid for a while. "How the hell does this happen," he scowls, meeting my eyes in the mirror of his personal bathroom. I don't answer, giving him a pointed look that said he knew exactly how it happened. He got too impatient and now we were both paying for it. A knock at the door makes both of us jump, Ben quickly covering my mouth with his hand. "Yes?"

"The Kriticos family is here for you Ben," Hanna says," maybe you should get your secretary back from her lunch break to do her job." Hannah's voice is annoyingly high-pitched and made most men run for the hills. "I have them waiting just outside your office." Ben waits until he can no longer hear the click of Hannah's heels against the wood floor before releasing me, quickly straightening his clothing. I give a huff of irritation, reaching up the back of my dress as best as I can and untangling it, the material stopping a little above my knees. As Ben runs his hands through his hair I pull on my shoes, black heels with a velvet bow on the front, and open-toed. They're my favorites, but I didn't wear them that often because they were a pain to keep clean.

"Are you ready?" I nod, walking out of the bathroom behind him and waiting for him to get situated at his desk before opening his office door and ushering the family inside. "Libby, why don't you go grab some dinner and I'll pick you up when we're ready to leave here."

"Sounds good to me." I give Bobby a hug before walking out to my car, tossing my purse into the passenger's seat. I sit there for a minute, fixing my hair and reapplying my makeup before starting the car and driving to Dennis's house. Dennis is already expecting me for dinner, though Ben thought I was meeting Diana. My friend's house is a small one with chipped yellow paint and red flowers poking out of the ground on either side of the driveway. He meets me outside, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile on his face.

"Hey, Libby, you got someone here that wants to see you." A little girl runs out of the house and nearly tackles me to the ground the second I was out of the car, little Amelia giggling the entire time. The two year old is Dennis's from a previous marriage and got to spend three hours with her dad every other Wednesday. Cindy walks outside next, dressed in Gucci sweats and an oversized shirt to hide her rounding belly. "So, I, uh, guess I'll see you both next Wednesday unless the little guy decides to come early." Cindy nods, carefully walking down the porch steps with one hand on the railing and the other supporting her lower back.

"Libby," she greets breathlessly, taking Amelia's hand and leading her to the minivan. "Dennis, could you..." But he was already on his way, helping the toddler into her car seat and buckling her in. "Thanks, I had a good day today and I know Millie did, too." Dennis nods, giving his ex a kiss on her cheek before leading me into the house and shutting the front door behind us. Cindy and Dennis were the rare divorcees that stayed friends afterward, though Dennis and Cindy's new husband were mortal enemies of each other.

"Your bacon cheeseburger's in the kitchen." I nod, following him into the light blue room and sitting down at the kitchen table, pulling the Braums bag to me. "I thought you hated fast food."

"I've wanted it for the past couple of days, but I've been too busy to grab some." He nods, sitting next to me and taking a sip from my chocolate shake. "Anyway, we're heading to the house in a couple of hours, do you still have that, uh, power company jumpsuit that you used to get us into the Angry Princess's old job?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Because that's how you're gonna get inside and find your money."

* * *

"That's strange," Ben says as we get out of the car, staring at the power company truck parked in the driveway in front of us. The others get out of the station wagon and follow Ben and me to the house.

"Whoa, Dad, it's beautiful," Kathy exclaims with a grin.

"Oh my God, I've never seen anything like it," Arthur says, shutting his car door. Bobby and Maggie hop out next, Bobby holding a large recorder and a Razor scooter. That kid never went anywhere without them, I discovered that when I tripped over the scooter the first day I aided for their class.

"Cool," he grins," so futuroic!" Ben ignores everyone, walking over to a man dressed in a bright orange jumpsuit and a white hard hat, clearing his throat to get the man's attention. I have to hide a smile when Dennis turns around.

"Oh, hey," he nods," it's about time somebody showed up." Dennis holds up his flashlight, shining it in Ben's eyes just in case he was recognized. "Is this your place?" Arthur's family moves to look through the windows, letting Ben handle Dennis.

"Mm, who are you," Ben asks, pushing the flashlight out of the way so he could see Dennis's face.

"I'm the power guy." Ben lifts the ID. badge clipped to Dennis's outfit, but his hand is slapped away promptly. "Ah, don't touch! Look, you probably don't know this, but your house is knocking out the power of the whole tri-quad area. I need to get inside and check the breakers." He has the flashlight held up again, shining it Ben's eyes every second or so to make sure there was no way he'd get a close look. I doubt Ben recognized him, they only met that one time.

"Could you come back tomorrow, is that maybe a possibility?" He's slipped into his I'm-better-than-you voice and I can't help but roll my eyes.

"Oh, tomorrow? Let's see." Dennis holds up his clipboard, pretending to read from it. "Oh, there's about 5, 570 houses right now without power; my bosses kind of frown on that, so..." The flashlight shines in Ben's eyes again and I can tell he's beginning to get irritated.

"Right, well, that isn't really our problem, is it?" He slaps the flashlight away to get it out of his face, shooting me a look that said to keep quiet. I shrug, moving to stand next to Bobby and tell him about the pool I convinced Cyrus to install in one of the rooms. It was a late birthday present, one I only got because he knew if he didn't do it that I would keep bugging him.

"Look, buddy, I've been doing this job for about three weeks, is there any way you can give me a bit of a break here?"

"Sure," Arthur nods," no problem." Dennis turns to look at him for a second before facing Ben again, the flashlight back in his eyes.

"Thank you," he says loudly in Ben's face. He turns to face Arthur again and continues in his regular tone," Mister..."

"Kriticos, Arthur Kriticos."

"It's quite a place you got."

"Yeah," Kathy agrees, playfully smacking Ben's shoulder," we're moving in."

"One step at a time," Arthur says, holding up the key. He turns, inserting the key in to the locking mechanism that held the first two doors closed; the key slides out of Arthur's fingers and further into the lock, appearing to anyone who didn't know any better that it had broken.

"Dad," Bobby whines," you broke it!" I pat his shoulder, shaking my head and nodding towards the house again.

"Just wait for it," I whisper in his ear. He faces the house again in time to see all the lights turning on, the switch inside the lock doing its job.

"Wow, you can see right through it!"

"What," Dennis asks sarcastically," you guys couldn't afford any walls?"

"Guess Uncle Cyrus wasn't too keen on privacy," Arthur adds, with a sideways glance in Ben's direction. With a whirling click, the two glass doors in front of us part, allowing us inside. Once all of us are inside the small room, Ben closes the doors so that the next set would slide outward and allow us into the living room. The living room was decorated to Cyrus's taste, the first thing you see upon entering is a Samurai suit complete with a katana. I follow the others inside without any of the awe that I used to have. The living room is boring when compared to some of the other rooms, this one dedicated to random things like manuscripts, swords, and old telescopes. "It's Latin." Arthur runs a hand over the wall with an eagerness I hadn't expected to see from someone his age.

I pull out a piece of Red Hot gum and put it in my mouth without realizing it, chewing while I watched the family in boredom.

"Oh Cyrus, you crazy son of a bitch, _what did you do_?" I turn at Dennis's voice, wrapping my arms around myself. I must have forgot to turn off the heater before I left because it's kind of toasty in the house. In the center of the floor are twelve circles, each one growing larger the more there was, and the center one spinning. "Are you ready," Dennis asks in a low voice, laying his hat down on a chair. I bite my lip nervously, nodding my head. If we were caught Ben might do something bad. He had a short fuse on his temper and little things could set him off. Dennis gives me a nervous look before striding over to Ben. "As soon as you show me where you hid the basement, the sooner I can get my ass out of here."

"I'll show him," I pipe up, walking over to the pair. "You know, make sure he doesn't take things that don't belong to him."

"Fine," Ben agrees before facing Dennis. "Listen to me carefully though, you make one move to touch her and I'll have your ass; I don't like sharing my toys." His voice is low, so only Dennis and I heard him and the look Ben sends Dennis says he wouldn't mind shoving the flashlight up Dennis's ass. "Understood?" Dennis nods hurriedly, gesturing for me to take the lead. Once far enough away that we knew we wouldn't be overheard, Dennis makes me stop.

"Does he always talk to you like that?"

"No," I state, furrowing my eyebrows," that was a first. Now, let's sneak upstairs and change, then we can get to finding that freakin' money."


	5. Running From Ghosts

I was regretting changing now, the short-shorts revealing too much of my legs to the cool air of the basement; my Doctor Who shirt, on the other hand, was just thick enough the keep me from completely freezing. Considering we had to go downstairs, I'd slipped on dark blue sneakers to match m shirt and make running easier. Dennis leads the way, holding his flashlight out in front of us so we could see where we were going. As we reached ground level, low muttering could be heard from behind familiar glass cubes. "Oh my God," I breathe in fear," he's added to it." The first, and last, time I came down here there were only two cubes, their signs belonging to the Torn Prince and the Bound Woman, but now all of them were here.

"Where'd you hide your money, old man," Dennis asks, looking around with the same apprehension as me. I chew my gum faster, a nervous habit I've never been able to kick. Dennis lurches forward as though someone had hit him from behind, gasping in pain. He drops his clipboard, holding onto the wall for support. "Oh shit." Ah, fuck—he's having one of his ghosts-close-by fits, which means I was right in assuming that Cyrus had moved the ghosts down here before he died. "What the hell was that?"

"You _know _what that was," I insist in a shaky voice, wanting nothing more than to grab his arm, but knowing that if I did he would just go into another fit. "Cyrus did the thing all of us told him not to and now we're down here with the bastards." He rushes over to the cubes, taking in the signs on the cubes in a panic.

"Oh no, oh, Cyrus..." I follow after him, already beginning to shake; the spells etched into the walls interfered with my telekinesis enough that I couldn't always make it work when I need it to—it scares me to think that the spells could keep me from helping Dennis and I survive down here should one of them break out somehow. We don't get very far before Dennis falls victim again, jerking and dropping the flashlight. I keep away, not daring to touch him and make things worse. One of his hands shoot up to cover his face, knocking his glasses of and accidentally stepping on them seconds later. "Ah!"

I lean against one of the cubes, waiting for Dennis to calm down only to have something bang against it and send me falling to the ground with a scream. With shaking hands I pull the special glasses out and slip them on, turning to see who scared me. Inside the cube is Ryan Kuhn, cackling madly and scratching at the glass with his sharp nails. My hand moves to my right ankle where I still bore the scars from those nails. "No," I shout, crying now and wishing I had never been adopted. "No, no, no!" I cover my ears with my hands to drown out the cackling, letting out a panicked scream when Dennis grabs one my arms despite everything and begins to sprint out of the basement. It's a miracle that he didn't whack my head on the stairs as he continued to drag me until we were in the library. Then he finally lets go, wincing from all that he'd had to see.

"What the hell did you do to her," Ben demands, yanking me away from Dennis and sitting me in one of the chairs, wrapping his overcoat around my shoulders.

Dennis waves him off, leaning against the table and saying," Arthur, w-we have to talk." It was hard for him to get the words out and catch his breath at the same time; I can understand, still shaking and whimpering with my knees drawn up to my chest, and Ben's hand placed protectively on my shoulder. Hot tears continue to trail down my cheeks, stinging my eyes.

"What is the deal with the breakers," Arthur asks in annoyance, looking to Ben for the answer. Ben shrugs his shoulders, looking as confused and irritated as Arthur with some anger mixed in.

"There's nothing wrong with the breakers. I'm not the power guy, my name is Dennis Rafkin."

"_You're _Dennis Rafkin," Ben interrupts, taking a step forward.

"Who's Dennis Rafkin," Arthur asks.

"My office warned me about this guy."

"Now this is gonna sound completely whacked, all right? But just—just stay with me. I used to hunt displaced spiritual energies with your Uncle." He moves anxiously, like if he stopped the ghosts down in the basement would grab him and turn him into one of them.

"I'm sorry?" _Poor Arthur_, I think to myself, _do try and keep up_.

"Uh, uh, P.K. Agents, Revenants...uh, uh, uh. Like wraiths, wraiths? Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?" Arthur chuckles nervously, looking to Ben and me for some help, but I wasn't moving unless I had to. Ben comes to his rescue, moving to stand behind his chair. "That's okay, that's okay, I'll do this the easy way. Ghosts, Arthur, I used to—I used to hunt ghosts with your Uncle Cyrus."

There's bit of an awkward pause before Arthur asks," Goats?"

"Ghosts! Ghosts, God damn it! Listen to me! Ghosts as in, uh, as in disgruntled spirits trapped on earth, _ghosts_. As in Halloween. Boo!"

"Ghosts, right, okay. I get it," Arthur chuckles," I get it, I get it. I'm scared." Ben joins him in laughing, but at the hurt look Dennis sends in their direction white hot anger shoots through me.

"Don't laugh at him, assholes," I snap, voice breaking a little from crying. "Dennis and I would love to explain in detail, but I won't do it in this fucking house. I want—I want to get out, to get as far away as I can from those monsters downstairs." I'm close to a panic attack, I can already feel my throat beginning to contract and shorten my breaths. "P-please, Ben, let's leave." Ben's never seen me like this before and it's obvious that he doesn't know how to respond, so he changes the subject back to Dennis and away from the problem in the basement.

"That's enough, Elizabeth," Ben states firmly, giving me a look that made me cringe back in my seat. "This guy has been harassing my office since your Uncle died, obviously he's gotten to Elizabeth. I see this all the time—some rich guy passes away and all the nuts come out! The next thing you know, he'll be claiming that Cyrus owed him money."

Dennis straightens up again, pointing at Ben and Arthur determinedly. "He _did_ owe me money. He owed me a shitload of money! I'm gettin' my ass out of the big glass house! Grab your children, do the same!" As he turned to leave another fit hit him, making him double over. Obviously concerned, Arthur walks over to him and places a hand on his shoulder, sending Dennis to the ground. I run forward, pushing Arthur away and leaning over Dennis to whisper soothing nonsense and calm him down. It works slowly, he stops jerking around, and is able to relax. He'd almost gone into a full on seizure, but I'd moved Arthur just in time.

"We'll go get you some help, okay," Arthur says gently, his hand hovering over Dennis's back. "We're gonna get you some help."

"Don't," I say, grabbing Arthur's wrist before he can touch my friend again. "Touching him makes everything worse when he's not ready." After a couple of deep breaths, Dennis is able to sit up by himself, wiping some spit off his chin.

"How's your head?"

"Not good," Dennis answers, rubbing at it. "Where's the suit?" I follow his gaze around the room, but Ben had disappeared.

"Fucking idiot," I growl, getting up and sprinting towards the basement. I knew he had gone down there for the simple reason that he knew where Cyrus hid his money and the only place I wasn't allowed to be in, in this whole house, is the basement. "Ben! Where are you, shithead?!" I continue sprinting through the dizzying maze of halls that run under the main floor, listening for any sign that Ben was close by. "Ben!" The walls begin to shift suddenly, putting my nerves on edge. They've never done this before. _Oh God, don't let me get lost down here with these things_!" The next corner I round finds me facing the back of the Angry Princess and coming to a sudden halt, my feet sliding out from under me. She turns to look at me over her shoulder, flickering in and out. I hold out a hand, palm facing towards her and focus with the last of my strength.

The last thing I see is the ghost being flung sideways and Ben sprinting towards me before I lost consciousness.

* * *

When I open my eyes again, Ben has me slung over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, following after Arthur, Maggie, Kathy, and Dennis. "The hell is going on," I murmur, voice rough and eyes still half-closed. The group comes to a stop so that Ben can put me back on my feet, keeping one arm around my waist so I don't fall face first to the ground and knock myself out again. "Why are we still here?" Panic was beginning to set in again as I recall the Angry Princess looking at me.

"The house has sealed itself up," Dennis answers, glaring at Ben. "And it's your fuck-buddy's fault." Ben clenches his jaw, but says nothing as we continue to move through the halls. That's when I realize exactly where we are in the house, and it's not the part I'm comfortable in.

"No," I groan, trying to back away," no, no, I don't want to be down here. We have to get out of here!" Ben tightens his hold on me to keep me from bolting. "No, he's down here, he wants to hurt me!" I was screaming at this point, desperately trying to get away and failing. "Please, Ryan's gonna kill me, he's gonna—" I break down, sobbing and letting Ben pick me up and carry me. "Please," I whimper, voice barely heard.

"Hold on." Arthur comes to a stop, making everyone else follow suit. "Hold on, listen to me. This is gonna take forever, this place is just too big." He pauses to look around before continuing. "Okay, Kathy and I will head up this way. You and Maggie check down there, and you two go that way." I cling tighter to Ben's neck, afraid that Ryan might be out. He was known to rape woman and torture them afterward; I don't want him to get me. Ben nods, moving down the left corridor, while Kathy and Arthur go right, and Dennis and Maggie go straight.

"Are you alright, Libby," Ben asks, rounding a new corner and taking us farther away from the basement steps.

"N-no." Ben sighs, continuing to walk as I continue to shake and whimper. They're loose, we're all gonna die, and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. "Let me walk." Ben looks down at me, unsure whether to let go of me or not. "I'm not getting lost in this place alone, so don't worry." He sets me on my feet again, once again holding me tightly so I don't fall. "What the hell did you do to piss of the house, anyway?"

"I grabbed the damn suitcase with the money in it, but I lost it when you passed out." It sounds just like Cyrus to rig a suitcase full of money to close the house and release the ghosts, that selfish bastard. I sniffle, moving to push up my glasses out of instinct only to find them missing. That's freaking great, now I can't even see if there's a ghost nearby. Ben had his on, so I guess that's a plus. At least one of us will now when we need to haul ass in the other direction. It's quiet for a few minutes as we walked, Ben having already explained what we were doing down here. Worry gnawed at me, worry that Bobby might be dead or locked in a cube. God, if something happened to that little boy I'll never be able to forgive myself. I would have walked right into a ghost if Ben hadn't grabbed my arm and pulled me back, jerking me out of my thoughts. With wide eyes, I look around for any hint at which one it might be. "Move back slowly," Ben instructs in a low voice. I do as he says, my shaking getting worse. I get move the damn thing if I can't see it!

"Which one?"

"Jackal." That one word had me ready to pass out again, my breathing picking up and sending me closer to hyperventilation. "Keep moving, Libby, he won't do anything if he doesn't notice—" Ben's eyes grow wide as he turns and jerks me along with him in a desperate run. "Move!" I can hear Ryan's crazed laugh as he runs after us, and then I'm on the ground and his nails are raking down my side, tearing my shirt and flesh. "Fuck!" Ben grabs one of my arms, beginning to pull me along with the Jackal after him.

I scream out in pain, feeling the warm blood seeping into my shirt, leaving a trail behind us. Ryan cackles again, one hand groping my breast and ripping my shirt even worse. "Get off of me!" The walls begin to shake as my panic rises, the lights hanging above our heads swaying back and forth. "GET OFF!" And then he was gone and a loud bang was heard behind us from Ryan's impact into the glass. Ben doesn't pause to help me up, just continuing to drag me. I let him, in too much pain to really put up much of a struggle. "Go faster!" Ben obliges, nearly falling on the slick glass as he speed up. "We have to get upstairs, they can't get upstairs if the glass is in the right spot."

Ben's breathing was coming out louder and louder, he pauses long enough to drag me to my feet, and then we're both running up the stairs towards the first level of the house with Ryan right on our heels. I let out a shout of frustration, slamming the doors closed and watching as the white Latin turns golden for a second when Ryan collides with it. "Fuck me," gasps, his hands resting on his knees. It was calm again for a second as we caught our breath and I never knew until that moment how hard it was not to cry. Ben wraps his arms around me, both of us huddling across from the doors. "He's gone, the Jackal's gone and there's no way he can get past those spells." He sounds as though he's trying to reassure himself instead of me, but it helps me all the same. My breathing goes back to normal and I'm able to get back to rational thinking.

A pane of glass set in the floor a few paces away lifts up, a sparking flare placed next to it in the same instant that Maggie and Dennis rounded the corner, all of us screaming and thinking a ghost was attacking only to calm down a little bit later and realize that we're idiots. Kalina climbs up from the hole in the floor just as Dennis moves forward with an angry look on his face.

"What the hell are you doing here," he demands. He doesn't get an answer when Arthur starts yell up through the pane, desperately trying to climb his way up while holding Kalina's spell book. Dennis, Maggie, Kalina, and I move quickly to pull him up, a banging sound below making me jump and wonder which ghost had caught him. As if reading my mind Dennis mouths," The Hammer." That's fantastic, the big guy with a hammer for a hand is loose and out for blood. I grab the glasses off Dennis's face, slipping them on and looking through the hole at the pissed off black ghost below, spikes protruding from his head and his blacksmith hammer in bedded in the stump of his right wrist.

"Thanks for taking your time," Arthur snarls, breathing heavily. He has glasses on, too, and it looks like he finally believes Dennis and I. Kalina opens her book, flipping through the large book until she finds the page she's looking for halfway through.

"We're gonna make a left and then a right," she instructs.

"Where are we going," Dennis asks. The directions are familiar from this point, it's a room I used to spend most of my time studying.

"The library," I say, realizing how brilliant that was," the barrier spells surround it, there's no way the ghosts can get in!" Kalina nods, shutting her book, moving to lead the way with me right behind her and Dennis bringing up the rear. "Let's move, bitches!" My side and back is throbbing and burning at this point, gushing blood, but I don't stop, ignoring the pain as best I can. Ben moves to walks behind me, removing his coat and wrapping it tightly under my breasts and tying it to try and staunch the bleeding. "Thanks." He nods, frowning as he looks around us. A familiar snarl makes me spin around just in time to see Ryan throw Arthur against one of the walls, digging his nails repeatedly into Arthur's back.

"Kalina," Dennis shouts, taking his glasses back from me," give me the flare!" I fall back against the wall, watching Dennis throw the flare, and Ryan disappear the second before it reached him. "Get him, get him! Get up, Arthur, get up; we gotta go, no time for sitting around!" Ben and Dennis each have one of Arthur's arms on their shoulders, dragging him as our group started to sprint once more through the house towards the library. I spot my special glasses in Ben's coat pocket and pull them on, looking behind us in terror. Instead of seeing Ryan again, I spot the Pilgrimess, head and hands still bound in the stock she died in. Her white eyes land on us and she charge forward after us with a screech of rage. Inside the library, Dennis and Kalina slide the door shut just as the Pilgrimess slams into the glass. I jump backwards and the collapse to the ground with a sob, my side is killing me and my emotions are all over the damn place. "I hate this job," Dennis groans, resting his head against the glass door and leaving a blood smear.

"It doesn't seem to like you too much either," Kalina snaps, laying her book on the table," I wonder why." He tosses his glasses on the table, looking like he didn't give a flying fuck.

"You got something to say, say it."

"Alright, let's start with this is all you God damned fault! If you hadn't caught them we wouldn't be running from them now, would we?" Dennis steps forward, pointing down at Arthur.

"It's his Uncle that built the damn house!"

"Yeah, but you helped him!" Her angry gaze lands on Ben and me. "And the two of you helped him, too!"

"Fuck off," I snarl, trying to stand again, but failing. "You should consider yourself lucky that I didn't drop a car on your head when I had the chance, it would've saved me a lot of bullshit!" She opens her mouth to reply, but I'm passed pissed off, I'm fucking furious. "Keep your mouth shut, you worthless bitch!" With narrowed eyes, I send her hurling backwards into a wall with enough force to shake the glass and give her a nasty head wound.

"Shut up all of you," Arthur commands weakly from his chair," cut them some slack, would you? What difference does it make?" Ben makes me lay down on my uninjured side, untying his coat and taking a cup of alcohol from Maggie, dumping half of it on my would and letting me down the other half once I'd stopped screaming. Dennis gives me a sympathetic look, but stays silent as Ben tends to me. He can't right now, he's not strong enough to put up his wall and I doubt he wants to see the things in my head. Maggie pours a little alcohol on Arthur's back, the older man letting out a hiss, but taking the pain better than I had.

"You didn't tell him, did you," Kalina asks, looking like she had the winning hand in high stakes poker.

"Oh God, w-what? Tell me what? What now?" Arthur stands up slowly, using the back of his chair in order to stay standing.

"About the fourth ghost?" _Fourth ghost, what about her_? I wasn't allowed to go to that one, Cyrus saying something about it being personal and making me stay the night with Ben.

"No," Dennis shakes his head," don't so this. I didn't tell him. Don't do this."

"He has a right to know!"

"What about the fourth ghost," Arthur asks, shaking and barely able to stand.

"Saint Luke's hospital—six months ago." The news seems to hit Arthur like a ton of bricks, but I still didn't understand why; Maggie covers her mouth with her hands, shaking her head back and forth with tears forming in her eyes.

"Are you saying my wife's spirit is trapped in this house," he asks, voice breaking.

"I didn't know you," Dennis says as an apology," I didn't know her. I didn't she had a _husband_." With a cry of rage, Arthur lunges forward and punches Dennis, sending them both to the ground.

"Why? In God's name, why?! Tell me, why her?"

Dennis flinches back from Arthur," I don't know why! Cyrus handpicked them all, including your wife. When I figured out who you were—God, I've been trying to help you. Libby had no idea about your wife, she wasn't even allowed to be there, she had to stay with Moss."

"You call this help?! She's right, this _is _all your God damn fault! Son of a bitch!" He fights to stand up again with Maggie's help.

"Arthur," Kalina starts," you can save her and your kids, too. Just listen to me and believe in me. This house is not a house, it is a machine. It is a complete and faithful recreation of Basileus' design." She sits down at the table, looking through her book again "According to this, there should be twelve earth-bound spirits trapped inside." She flips to a page with familiar marks on it, the marks of the twelve ghosts roaming the house. "See this? They represent the Black Zodiac, they represent the ghosts that Cyrus needed to catch—The firstborn son...The Torso...The Bound Woman...The Withered Lover, Jean..." Arthur strokes the page for a moment, lost in his own world, then he pulls away and allows Kalina to keep going. "The Torn Prince...The Angry Princess...The Pilgrimess...The Great Child and the Dire Mother...The Hammer...And, here, the sign of Hell's winter, the Jackal...And the Juggernaut. According to Basileus, the machine required the energy of these specific spirits in order to bring it to life. Once it engages, the spirits are released one by one. The house then draws them to its center. Each one adds its energy to the machine, powering it up."

"For what," Arthur asks, rubbing his temples as he tried to take in all the information at once.

"To open the Ocularis Infernum."

"The Ocularis," Maggie asks," what's that?" _What's that, indeed_.

"It's Latin," Arthur provides," Ocularis—the Eye of Hell?"

"The Eye of Hell." Maggie begins to pace back and forth, throwing her hands up in defeat. "I'm stuck in here in a glass house, with a bunch of crazy white people." _So are the rest of us, lady, get used to it_.

"Go on," Arthur urges Kalina.

She does as he says," In Hell, there is an eye that sees everything: the past and the future, the Heaven and Earth, the blessed and the damned. If knowledge is power, then the man who controls the Ocularis would be the most powerful man on earth..."

"Yep," I supply, beginning to feel a little woozy from the blood loss," that sounds like dear ole daddy, always on a power trip and too damn dumb to know when to come back to normal people standards. How many ghosts we dealin' with right now?"

"Eleven, and the house needs twelve." _Well, I need some more alcohol, keep it coming, people! _I must not have said it out loud like I meant to because Dennis begins to talk and I ain't got no whisky.

"No, Damon said something about _thirteen_, that there are _thirteen_ ghosts."

"The thirteenth ghost is a fail-safe. In order to stop the process, the house needs a sacrifice of life instead of death. A willing human sacrifice, a sacrifice of a broken heart." She looks pointedly at Arthur while she talks, something Maggie takes offense of. "The only ghost to be created out of an act of pure love."

"You're the thirteenth ghost." _And I'm freakin' thirsty, someone get me a bottle of alcohol and shut up so that I can get wasted and die in silence!_

"The thirteenth spirit stands before the Eye at the final configuration; as the Eye opens, the spirit uses the power of life to essentially short-circuit the system."

"Uses the power of life how," Arthur asks.

"By leaping into the Eye."

"And Arthur's supposed to take this leap," Maggie asks, putting a protective hand on his shoulder. "No fucking way, lady. That's suicide, Arthur, I'm not gonna let you do that. You need to come up with something else 'cause that ain't working, no way."

"You two should get together." All eyes land on me and it takes me a little bit to realize why. "Oops, that one was supposed to be said in my noggin' not out here."

"Be quiet, Libby, and drink your whisky," Ben chuckles, handing me a glass of the amber liquid. I smile, gulping it down and ignoring the burn.

"Love is the most powerful energy, Arthur," Kalina continues, shooting a look in my direction. _Why don't you jump then, Bitch, it ain't no secret that you love Cyrus._ "In order for you to save your children, you'd have to trade your life for theirs." Any good parent would do that in a second if they had to. Hell, I'd do it for little Millie, and she ain't even my kid! Dennis pulls the book away from Kalina, looking as though he wanted to find something in there that proved the woman wrong, that Arthur wouldn't have to leave his children alone in the world.

"No, there's gotta be a better way," he says in a desperate tone. "I don't read Latin." Kalina stands up and dumps out her bag, explosives and the making of a homemade bomb falling out on the table.

"Well, we can try it the old fashioned way, my personal favorite. Nobody's gonna be here to brag about it afterwards. Whatever we decide, we gotta come up with a game plan soon 'cause time's running out."

"You gonna blow the place up," Maggie asks in disbelief.

"The last ghost is about to be released." Dennis leans on the table across from my cousin and I notice the cut on the side of his head has finally stopped bleeding.

"Look, I know why you feel like you have to do this, Arthur."

"Get away from me."

"No, scientists call it a linking, we linked earlier. I _saw _everything, about Jean...About you."

Shut up." Arthur stands again, walking away from Dennis. I watch the two men from my spot on the ground, Ben doing the same while refilling my glass from time to time. "I'm not gonna listen to this from you."

"Listen to me then," I say, slurring slightly," the dumb bitch wants you to commit suicide and I've done my homework—say no and we all die in a huge s'plosion, go through with jumping in and your kids might die anyway once the machine is done with the ghosts a releases them. Either way it's a lose-lose situation for all of us, so I intend on getting shit-faced and enjoying the rest of my night."

"All I can think about are my kids," he tells me without turning away from the glass to look at me. "I don't even know if they're alive." Dennis joins him at the glass, the look on his face scaring me.

"Then let's go out there and find out," he says. "One last time while there's still time—you and me.

Arthur finally turns around, but he has the same light in his eyes that Dennis does and my fear only intensifies as he addresses Kalina. "No matter what I decide to do or what happens to any of us, are you sure you can stop that machine?"

"I got enough explosives to blow us back to the fifteenth century," she answers with a smile, already working to build an explosive.

"Okay, how many flares do you have left?"

One, why?"

"We're going out again."

"You hear that, Benny," I ask with a giggle," we's gonna get our ass beaten by a bunch of ghosts. Don't that sound lovely?"

"Oh yeah, the sort of thing every man wants to happen to him," Ben mutters, taking my glass away and helping me to my feet, one of my arms around his shoulders and one of his around my waist. "Now, are you sober enough to run?"

"Does it matter if I am?" Ben sets me down on the table, moving to help Arthur remove one of the glass sheets that make up the walls.

"We got about ten minutes before the ectoplasmic shit hits the fan," Kalina informs us." Once Dennis had the end that Ben was supporting, he comes back over to me and picks me up, carrying me bridal style through the gap in the glass. "We'll go downstairs to try and buy you some more time. While Dennis and Arthur go left, the rest of our group head to the right down the hall towards the hole Kalina had left in the floor that leads to the basement. Kalina goes down first, dropping our last flare in case any ghosts try to come while she's distracted. Next is Maggie, then me, and then Ben. "Here, put these on." Kalina hands Maggie her own pair of glasses and then picks up the flare. "Come one, let's go. Come on!" Ben grumbles under his breath, helping me limp along after the women.

"If we live through this," I tell Ben," We are so having sex and getting high. Have you ever been high, because I haven't, but I'm fuckin' curious." Ben smiles down at me, nodding along and pretending to give half a shit. I look around us, noting that this was the place I'd been knocked unconscious. "Hey, I saved your ass here, Benny."

"Yes, you did, Libby," he nods, running his free hand through his disheveled hair. "And I promise that if we live through this, I'll marry you and we can have as much sex as you want, anywhere you want." I giggle at the prospect, unable to see my in a fluffy, white dress. When we catch up with Kalina and Maggie again, Kalina's opened a door to reveal a spacious room with a big ass machine smack dab in the middle of it. It looked to be made up of spinning blades and cogs. "Holy mother of God." I stare at the machine open-mouthed. _I wonder how he fit that down here_.

"Girl, hurry up," Maggie yells, holding the flare. I was about to say something when none other than Cyrus walks in, still in the bloody suit he died in. Maggie shrieks, holding the flare at him as she'd seen Kalina do, but it wasn't working this time. Cyrus continues to advance on her and I feel myself grow faint. There would only be one reason why that flare didn't work and that would be because the bastard's still alive and kicking. "Kalina, get over here! This flare shit ain't working!" Kalina smiles at Cyrus raising the book up and bringing it down hard on Maggie's head, knocking her unconscious.

"Well I'll be damned," I mutter, stumbling backwards against an equally surprised Ben.

Cyrus chuckles, Kalina throwing herself forward and kissing him, but he didn't let that display last long; he takes the book and pushes Kalina back into a chair. "Where is it," he asks, flipping to the back of the book. "Where is it? Where is it?!" He slams the book closed, advancing on the traitorous bitch. "Kalina?!"

"Why." she stutters nervously," why are yo so mad at me? I did everything you asked me to do."

"Kalina?"

"I killed Damon, I stole his spells..."

"Kalina?"

"...I even made sure your pathetic nephew didn't get himself killed."

"Kalina! Where are the spells?" He enunciates each word as though he's talking to a mentally deficient puppy, shoving the book into her arms. She hurriedly pulls the audio reel out of her bag, giving it to him. I shake my head, she's dumber than I thought she was and I thought she was pretty freakin' dumb to begin with.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" _He's mad at everybody, dipshit_.

"Of course not." With a click, another lever raises, the last one of twelve...The Juggernaut is loose. I suck in a sharp breath, seeing Joseph's mutilated body from the night we captured him, shaking my head and mumbling under my breath. Cyrus walks over to the machine, pushing Ben and I out of the way like we weren't there in the first place.

"So, what are we going to do?" Kalina gets up and follows after him like a lost little puppy. "Your nephew believes that sacrificing himself will save his kids, but he won't do it unless he's convinced his kids are jeopardy."

"Well, put them jeopardy."

"No," I shout, breaking away from Ben and moving towards Cyrus. "They're only kids, you disgusting bastard!" Cyrus glares, raising his cane and delivering a hard blow to my cheek. I fall back onto the ground with a grunt, fresh blood flowing down my face to join the blood soaking my T-shirt.

"Greatness requires sacrifice," he says," something you never quite figured out." I glare up at him, holding my cheek until he's pushed a couple of feet back. That's all I can muster right now, my body growing weaker from the strain. "Now, I have a job to do." He turns to face Kalina, giving her a gentle caress. "And so have you. Do it. Do it!" Kalina jumps into action, doing as Cyrus said while Ben pulled me off to the side so I wouldn't get myself into anymore trouble. "Feel free to have her, Ben," Cyrus smirks," that is, if you're not already bored with her. I know you're women don't tend to last long. Time to finish this." He presses a button and Latin spells are emitted through the house using speakers. "Fetch the book." Ben and I sit in our corner and watch as Cyrus and Kalina leave the room, Kalina getting halfway through a short corridor when Cyrus pulls a lever and the glass starts sliding in, squashing her.

I turn my gaze back to the large machine in front of me, wondering if Kalina had actually set the explosives or if that was just another lie. "We have to do something," I say aloud," anything, something!"

"Like what, Libby, if you haven't noticed, we're locked inside!" I smack Ben's shoulder, scooting over to Maggie and shaking her roughly until she wakes up.

"Come one, move your ass! We gotta do something or everyone is gonna die in about three minutes!" She shakes her head groggily, her dark eyes locking on the control panel of the machine and then cutting to me. "I'm a little stuck right now, but feel free to experiment." She rushes over to where the reels are spinning on the panel, pressing random buttons.

"Come on," she shouts, growing impatient with the Latin continues to play.

"The reels," Ben suggests, walking over to Maggie, picking one of the audio reels up and throwing it at the whirling blades of the machine. Maggie moves over to the levers next, pushing them down and pulling them back up to get a reaction. She gets just that when the metal cogs begin to grind against each other, tearing apart.

"Guys," I yell," get your asses over here now!" Ben and Maggie do as I say, crouching next to me on the ground. I use what's left of my energy to create a sort of bubble around us, to protect us from any debris that might go flying at us.

* * *

I cough when the shit storm has finished, watching as Maggie storms out and screaming that she was done. The house is done, too, blown to bits with every object inside blown apart with it except for a wooden box lodged in the ground a few feet away. "Is that what I think it is," I ask, looking at Ben.

He nods in wonder," Yeah, that's his liquor cabinet. Too bad we don't have the key." In shock, I reach into my bra and pull out the little silver key he had given me earlier, holding it up for him to see. "Hell, let's see what the old man has inside."

Once we managed to get the metal door to open, I pull out the first thing my hand comes into contact with; a little notepad with words and number scrawled inside. "That's his bank information." I point to the ID number in the lower left corner," But this ain't the one I know about." I reach in again and pull out a small suitcase filled to the bursting with hundred dollar bills. "I've got a golden ticket, babe." He chuckles, pulling out the real prize: a bottle of Vodka and a decanter of fine wine.

**/*/It's Over—Six Months Later/*/ **

I stare at what used to be my house, wearing a new black dress featured at Hot Topic as a Maleficent dress and some calf high boots. Ben has both of his arms wrapped around my waist, his hands resting on the small bump that is my belly. Arthur gives us a small smile, one hand around his girl friend's waist and the other resting on Kathy's shoulder. Bobby stood in front of Ben and me, looking at the house with a mixture of disgust and relief. Dennis is still here somewhere, I know that well enough due to the fact that when we came to see what we could salvage this morning, Ben was smacked upside the head by something invisible. "There he is," Booby shouts, pointing towards a slope on the right side of the house where Dennis and I used to have lunch when Cyrus was out of town. Dennis waves at us, flickering in and out of sight before disappearing entirely.

"Come on," Ben says, tugging at my hand," we have a doctor's appointment to see how little Sawyer's doing." And that was the end of a night mare that lasted a year, an end to everything bad and the beginning of everything good.


End file.
